


Good Night For Mycroft

by SaraStarchild



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Holmes Brothers' Childhood, I really hope these tags don't swap order once this is published, I wrote this back when John was a hedgehog so, Mycroft is not ace like I normally write him as, One Shot, Sherlock and Mycroft sleep in bunkbeds, Sherlock is a nosy little kid, THIS IS IMPORTANT INFORMATION, also, otherwise THIS WON'T MAKE SENSE, you'll see how that's relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraStarchild/pseuds/SaraStarchild
Summary: 14-year-old Mycroft returns from a late-night escapade with his girlfriend, and is immediately caught and questioned by his little brother, Sherlock.





	Good Night For Mycroft

**Author's Note:**

> I'm cleaning out my computer, found this, and thought I'd post it. I wrote it back in December of 2012.

It was about two a.m. when a fourteen-year-old Mycroft Holmes came sneaking into his room through the window. He looked up at the top bunk of the bed he shared with his seven-year-old brother, Sherlock Holmes, and sighed in relief when he found that the boy wasn’t stirring. Sherlock had never been one for sleeping. Even before he could talk their mum would find him in the kitchen covered in flour at three in the morning, babbling about things that nobody understood but him.

But tonight was different – little Sherlock was sleeping soundly, his arm hanging off the edge of bed, his head facing the other way. Mycroft smiled as he took off his shirt and pants and changed into matching pajamas. But then he heard him.

Sherlock Holmes wasn’t asleep after all.

“What were you doing?” he asked, and Mycroft jumped a foot in the air and looked up at his brother, his black hair askew and grasping onto his hedgehog plush.

“Nothing, Sherlock,” Mycroft huffed.

“It can’t have been ‘nothing’ if you just came in through the window. Mummy gets upset when I’m up past bedtime and you’re not special enough for special privileges,” Sherlock said. “So what were you doing?” He asked, climbing down from the bed.

“I was just on a stroll – nothing important happened,” Mycroft assured him.

“Your perfume doesn’t suggest that,” Sherlock informed him, picking up Mycroft’s discarded shirt and smelling it.

“Perfume?”

“Yes perfume. You went and saw your girlfriend, didn’t you?” he asked, as Mycroft swiped his shirt back and smelled it. He was right – there was a faint trace of his girlfriend’s perfume on his shirt. “What’s her name? Who was after the boring one from your history class?”

“No one. And Charlene’s not boring.”

“Not according to you. So let me guess: you went on a little stroll, ran into her, went to the park, and then you tripped and fell in some bushes?”

“Bushes?!” Mycroft sputtered, blushing. “How could you possibly –?” he started, but Sherlock pointed at his head. Mycroft reached up and – lo and behold – pulled a leaf out of his hair. “Just – just don’t tell Mum!”

“What’s stopping me?” Sherlock asked.

“Well,” Mycroft said, swiping Sherlock’s hedgehog from his hands and hoisting it above his head as Sherlock jumped for it. “If you _do_ tell Mum, let’s just say you won’t ever see your little friend again…”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sherlock growled.

“What’s stopping me?” Mycroft repeated, smirking.

“Ok ok fine I won’t tell Mum just give him back!” Sherlock begged, and Mycroft shrugged and abided.

“Why do you like that thing so much, anyway?” Mycroft asked as Sherlock hugged it to his chest. “You’ve never been so attached to anything.”

“I’d be lost without my hedgehog! Every pirate needs one!” Sherlock announced.

Mycroft tried to wrap his head around it for a moment, but then shrugged, figuring that it was just Sherlock being Sherlock.

“So you won’t tell Mum I went and met with Charlene?”

“I suppose not…” Sherlock pouted. He always loved being the tattletale.

“Good. And if you do, you won’t be able to be a pirate anymore. Cause your hedgehog will be gone forever,” Mycroft threatened. “Now go to bed, before Mum hears us,” he ordered, and Sherlock did as he was told.

Mycroft then settled into the bottom bunk of their bed and smiled in satisfaction. This was definitely a good night for him.

“Mycroft?” Sherlock said from above.

“What now, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked. “I’m tired.”

“What were you doing with Charlene so late at night?” he asked.

“NothingSherlockgotosleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 doesn't think abided isn't a word and I'm pissed about it.


End file.
